If I do not know
What I am missing
Let me dream on
Don’t try to sell me
Your dreams
I have lived
Thus far
Without missing
What I am missing
Left the chase for the
Pot of gold
Under the rainbow
Long ago
I will rather
Live on my terms
Enjoy the rainbow
Than buy your dreams
And come out losing

I have been rather sporadic in posting to my blog for some time now. It’s not writer’s ‘block that prevented me from writing. Rather it was some kind of strange mental fatigue. After sitting in front of the computer for 10 hours a day at work, do not have much stamina left to come and sit in front of the computer again at home. I downloaded Wordpress app recently to my mobile, but I am not much impressed with it. I find it more difficult to write and post using the app in my mobile then using the website. Wordpress website in my mobile was behaving funky for sometime now, not showing the comments. Not sure what the issue is or if it is my issue only. Not being able to use my mobile to post definitely put a dent on my regular posting. Well, there is my excuse.

Wrote the poem below in my mother tongue, Assamese (Axomiya) couple of days back and translated to English today. Some feelings get lost in translation though. Here it is, in Assamese first followed by the English translation.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The wall is blank for ages now
Lost the habit of framing and hanging
Photographs on the wall
Modern technology brings
Instant attachments
From across the seven seas
To the mobile in my hand
Temporary memories
Short-lived guests are they
One gentle touch of the finger
Deletes
Photos in the old albums
Indistinct, weathered
Eyes, clouded by age
Search the blank walls for
A bunch of faded pictures
Lost in the abyss of memory
The living lost the battle with death
Long ago
Dreams of living forever shattered
Search for nectar of immortality
Futile,
Invented immortal soul
Hard for us to accept the inevitable
We try in vain
To make memories permanent
By hanging them on the walls
Till the cold hands of death
Send us to our eternal sleep
It may be for the better
For the walls to remain blank

We wake up in the morning, dreams over and it is a new day. Unfortunately, this presidential election and its aftermath is like a bad dream that is not getting over. We have made our bed and now we must lie on it. We have every right to protest, but protest within the law. We must be on guard to protect our rights, not get incited by words and deeds of the hate mongers. We have every right to fight to change the laws that are not just. Those who proclaim that the constitution is sacrosanct, we can remind them that the sanctity had been violated twenty seven times with twenty seven amendments. Things change. People make a country. If the people so desire, then things can change.

For those who think that the president elect is the biggest calamity that could have happened, take heart. The same constitution has limited his time in the office. If people so desire, they have the power in their hands to change the situation in the coming elections. This is not a wake for the funeral of democracy, rather this is a clarion call for the complacent voters to action. Some fanatic extreme right wing fringe groups have ridden the wake of the groundswell of frustration about politics as usual. It is the duty of all of us, genuine conservatives as well as liberals to ensure that this small vocal minority does not hijack the spirit of this great country. If we allow that to happen, then we will certainly be failing in our duty of a citizen. We may have our disagreements, but name calling is not going to help our cause.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Let us be thankful that we are still able to wake up to a morning full of hope compared to many others who could not even go to bed for fear of being killed by bombs or gunfire. Let us be thankful that we have our rights for peaceful protest, let us be thankful that even though we may be down, we are not out. Let us wake up from this bad dream and celebrate Thanksgiving in the right spirit. Towards that hope, I continue on my journey and start my poem with “Wake” for week forty three of my fifty two weeks journey with W.